


Fanning the Flames

by sol_lune



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Cousin Incest, Dark, F/F, F/M, Incest, M/M, Messed Up Comfort, Multi, Original Female Character - Freeform, Possessive Uchihas, Trust Issues, Uchiha Massacre, Uchiha OC, Uchiha-centric, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, dark themes, entitled sad power-hungry little shit "hn-ing" uchihas, fight me energy, hand-holding, just issues period, obsession issues, rage monsters, so many trust issues, strange support systems, sweet uchiha family dynamics, touch issues, uchiha & hyuuga-wise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26074753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sol_lune/pseuds/sol_lune
Summary: Uchiha Ayumi activates her Sharingan during the Massacre of which there are only two survivors.Or, Uchiha Shisui has a little sister and canon changes.
Relationships: Uchiha Ayumi & Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Sasuke/Original Female Character(s), uchiha ayumi/uchiha sasuke
Comments: 20
Kudos: 55
Collections: The weak are meat; the strong eat





	1. Suffering is reserved for the living

She wakes gasping.

Her shaking hands reach up to clutch at her throat, shoulders curving inward to protect her stomach.

It’s dark. She tries to blink. Once, twice, eyelashes clumping together as she squeezes her eyes open and shut tightly, then rapidly as nothing changes.

She can’t see.

_She can’t see._

Her pulse pounds loud and frantic in her ears.

She doesn’t know when she starts to scream but she’s vaguely aware of the resulting burn in her throat as she claws at her eyes.

There’s shouting and a panicked, beeping sound but she hears it muffled like she’s underwater.

Someone grabs her wrists, trying to pull them away from her face. Flinching, she scrambles back at the touch before lashing out blindly when they come closer. Her hands connect with flesh and dig in as she struggles before they are caught and held down. They secure her wrists and ankles with chakra-restricting straps pulled tight enough to hurt.

She sobs wordlessly, thrashing about while stuck in place and trapped in darkness.

Pleads for release don't come. Won't come. She refuses to beg.

She demands instead: **LET ME GO!**

In response, there's a pricking sensation in the soft skin of her inner forearm as something is injected into her vein. She fumbles and yanks at the constraints, movements slowing. When she finally stills and falls unconscious, her jaw remains proudly set.

The medic-nins withdraw, casually prodding blooming bruises and wiping at the bloody scratches on their arms. One was unlucky enough to receive a hit to the face. They heal it with a grumble, green chakra flaring. Another nin rolls their eyes and mutters about “wasting chakra.” After checking the patient's chart and heart monitor one last time, the medics file out of the room.

* * *

Uchiha Ayumi rests undisturbed for 23 hours.

She sleeps through the unwrapping of thick, seamless bandages over her eyes and removal of the constraints containing her limbs.

On the 24th hour, sweeping eyelashes languidly open to reveal lovely dark eyes. Mind still hazy from the sedative, she wakes slowly and this time, to light and a white ceiling. A quick glance around confirms the rest of the room is the same color. The sharp sting of disinfectant is as good as embedded into the walls of Konoha Hospital.

Like always, her first thoughts after waking are of Shisui-nii. The warmth of his hugs, his smile, the way he ruffled her hair with a laugh, the speed of his Shunshin, his playful voice: _There’s my favorite imouto-hime!_

The memories make her wish desperately for the Sharingan.

There are times when she forgets the exact shape of his face and has to rush for the photos she has of him, tears welling up from the mess of irritation, anger, and utter helplessness she feels. Fingers trace the curl of his hair, trying to memorize his eyes and love, until she can see him clearly again.

Grief is a heavy weight. The mere thought of him no longer makes her shoulders tremble but it is still painful to remember that her brother, the strongest person she ~~knows-~~ knew, is dead.

Dead. Her heart stutters, the monitor beeps, and she suddenly remembers her nightmare.

_**Crumpled uchiwa fans… wind cutting her face… running…** _

_**ice… can’t move… wHy?** _

_**… so dark… chill in the air…** _

_**(-Sasuke-kun!)** _

_**… full blood moon…** _

_**red sky** _

_**(Itachi-itoko.)** _

_**… a blade against her throat…** _

_**darkness.** _

_**(… Shisui-nii?)** _

She blinks when a medic-nin, looking unsurprised to see her awake, walks into the room. Ayumi sits up on the bed and directs her gaze blankly ahead, pulse still fluttering.

“What happened?” she asks, voice low, still not looking at the nin.

When the medic remains silent, Ayumi lifts a hand to brush near her previously-blinded eyes.

“Ah, Uchiha-san, you activated your Sharingan.”

Her Sharingan, but when- not a nightmare. A memory.

The medic adds, almost unsure, “Congratulations.”

The compound had been quiet, too quiet, and then she had found them. The bodies. Her vision had sharpened, cleared, at the sight. The transition had **burned** and everything bled red. That had to have been the moment.

Her heartbeat is even.

“There were… complications so we wrapped them, I believe that led to your initial disorientation when you first woke.”

Ayumi glances down absentmindedly at her nails, clean, someone must have removed the blood, and possibly bits of skin. She vaguely remembered catching on flesh.

She finally meets the medic’s eyes, “Why am I here?”

Again, the medic hesitates, then approaches her bed slowly, stopping a length away to maintain distance.

The nin explains, as gently as a ninja can, that her cousin, Itachi, was a traitor and had murdered their clan, sparing only her and his brother before fleeing the village. ANBU black ops had found them alive among the dead bodies strewn in the streets and brought them to the hospital. A week had passed since what had been deemed as the Uchiha Massacre.

The information is delivered in the same way they are trained to report a mission: concise and matter-of-fact. The medic does not attempt to move closer to pat her shoulder or perform any other type of useless, consoling platitude. Ayumi would not have taken kindly to it at any time from a stranger, but especially not in this moment.

She is frozen. Whether in anger or sadness, she does not know. She just feels so cold she doesn’t feel much of anything. Numb.

Her dream that was a memory had been true. It had really been him.

Traitor and clan-killer.

Itachi, solemn Itachi-itoko, who had gently braided her hair with senbon in his limited free-time and carried her in his arms when her brother, his best friend, was on missions. He had looked after her in the wake of Shisui-nii’s death. It had been his request for her to move and live in the Main House with the clan head’s household: her uncle, aunt, and cousins.

To be with family, he had said.

Under the careful eyes of the medic-nin, she raises steady fingers to her throat and finds smooth skin.

“We healed the laceration there, Uchiha-san.”

“Was it life-threatening?”

“No.”

“Ah.”

Her throat is dry, she licks her lips. Then, asks for her cousin. The singular living, loyal one.

The medic looks at her for a moment and nods. “He woke when you did.”

* * *

She lets out a quiet huff of breath when she sees him. He is standing, pale and thin under the hallway lighting with dark circles beneath his eyes that don’t detract from his beauty at all.

Sasuke looks like a doll: pretty face, blank shining eyes, an empty expression adorned with the illusion of warmth in pink cheeks, completely breakable.

They reach for each other at the same time. Cold arms entangling, ridiculous paper-thin hospital clothing rustling, dark hair getting in the other’s face, they embrace and the relief almost melts her.

They are alive.

For just a moment, Ayumi allows her eyes to fall shut and relax minutely, reassured by the brush of his chest against her own with every inhale and exhale, before she pulls away. Sasuke moves to follow, stilling only when she slips her hand into his and squeezes gently. He squeezes back and becomes porcelain again.

She turns to the waiting medic who had helpfully reunited the cousins and bows to show her appreciation. At her side, Sasuke repeats the motion.

“Thank you for the care, Medic-san. Please pass along our thanks to those involved in the healing of my cousin and I.”

She does not apologize for any injuries she, or Sasuke for that matter, caused. The medics are professionals, they know how shinobi are while at the hospital. If they can’t deal with the damage inflicted by two shinobi-in-training, they are obviously incapable and shouldn’t remain in the medical field.

A hint of a smile curves onto the medic-nin’s face and she returns the bow.

As if that was the signal they had been waiting for, an ANBU silently drops down from the ceiling causing the cousins to stumble into each other at the sudden movement. The ANBU angles their head, indicating they should follow, then turns on their heel and begins walking on foot. She exchanges a look with Sasuke before trailing after the shinobi from a distance, still holding hands. 

They walk in silence to Hokage Tower, ignoring the whispers and gawking from the villagers. She stares coldly at anyone who meets her eyes, taking a distant kind of pleasure in the way they jerk and look away under the weight of her gaze. Some seem as if they are about to approach, but think better of it at the sight of the ANBU. No one gets within twelve feet of them and Sasuke's hand is warm in her own. They are small comforts.

Along the way, she finds herself thinking about the Hokage. She has never met him, only seen him from a distance.

There had been mutterings within the clan about disrespect from the village and Hokage. She had overheard displeased members gossip about his pipe and smoking habit.

When they enter the room, he is not smoking. His pipe is nowhere in sight, but the air is heavy. He looks tired, serious, and old.

Shisui's voice whispers a memory: "Elders have lived long for a reason. Tread lightly."

She listens.

The Hokage tells them nothing new.

At the end of the meeting, they have the key to an apartment, ANBU escorts, and hospital appointments for the next month.

She walks out in a daze and finds herself in front of the Uchiha compound, clutching Sasuke’s hand. They stand there, looking at the blood stained and seeping into the ground.

Itachi did that.

Their people had died on their clan land, in their home, betrayed by one of their own.

He had tried to kill them both, but didn't.

They are alive.

_Why?_

Sasuke’s breath starts to become shallow and she can tell he’s on the cusp of a panic attack because she’s almost there with him. The ANBU from before appears and gestures for them to follow again. They turn away from the compound with its Uchiha bloodstains and don’t look back.

The ANBU disappears when they reach the apartment building. They find the door that matches the number on the small silver key and enter the room. It’s large, presumably for their space and comfort, but much too exposed.

Ayumi drags Sasuke with her to the spacious bathroom and locks the door.

Sliding to the floor as her legs finally give out, she wraps her arms around herself, shoulders trembling. Sasuke's blank face begins to crumble. He joins her and aligns the side of his body with hers so they are pressed together. The grounding touch sets them both off. He starts to cry, low, keening sounds and she sobs without tears, panting for air.

Normally, she would hate for anyone, even family, to see her break like this. But these aren't normal times. Shisui is dead dead dead. Itachi is a traitor and killed everyone else. It's just her and Sasuke left.

She doesn't want to be alone for this.

The ANBU make it impossible to grieve privately and she would never dishonor her clan (even if they're just a memory now) by letting outsiders see her in such a way, but at least in here, they cannot see, only hear. She can almost pretend they're safe. 

They huddle close on the cold bathroom floor with their backs pressed flat to the pale yellow wall, scared and wide-awake. Curled against Sasuke, her hands shake on her throat and she wishes she at least had a kunai for the semblance of protection. She can taste her own fear, sticky and rotten, in the back of her mouth. 

They are alive.

It is a miserable night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!!
> 
> /
> 
> I created a visual for this chapter, check it out in So/Lu's Visuals or go to the end note for the direct link!
> 
> xxx  
> Please be respectful and don't post or translate my work as your own. Go to my profile for more details and information on ✨writing updates✨


	2. Mo(u)rning After

Day comes as it always does and Ayumi watches light spill onto the floor as morning creeps in beneath the bathroom door. It is only when the soft warmth reaches the tips of her toes that she decides to stand, bracing her legs when they threaten to buckle. Sasuke remains on the floor, but turns glazed eyes from the ceiling to track her movements. 

She steps in front of the sink and washes her face in uniform motions with cold water. Staring into the mirror, her fingers tense around the ceramic basin edge instead of flinching as she methodically picks out the hints of Shisui-nii in the bow of her lip and crescent of her eyes. She shares the same coloring all Uchiha do: dark splashes of ink on a bleached-bone canvas. The stream of water cuts off and she uses a dry towel to dab at her damp face without closing her eyes. 

Death becomes her, as it becomes all Uchiha. The tinge of grief, a pinch that waters your eyes and bruises the skin of your inner thigh, lingers on their tainted souls and hangs like a stormy shroud about them. As shinobi, they will always be tied intimately with death, whether it be as bringers or receivers.

Shisui-nii hid the weight behind bright smiles. He never liked to bring his ghastly side home. Cousin didn’t try to hide it at all. He let the haze envelop him and fell deeper into the abyss until it clung to his exhaling breaths and he was more shadow than boy.

Ayumi isn’t quite sure how she wears the effects of death. At times she feels like she’s surrounded by swirling smoke and frigid ice. The world narrows down into the single path laid before her. All she has to do is follow.

Now, she feels like a full pitcher of water that has been knocked over and hastily righted, but not refilled. The meaning has spilled from her, leaving a parched husk waiting for purpose to reinvigorate it. 

Others might not see clearly, no one ever can compared to an Uchiha, but they notice, instinctively aware, of the emptiness all Uchihas have. The great, gaping crevice that can be covered up and even filled in, but never made whole. Their skin is egg-shell, brittle and delightful to crush and crack between your fingers as it crumbles to bits and falls away to reveal the rotten, runny yolk of scrambled innocence. 

Uchihas are appealing in the way all dark, alluring things that whisper in the night and look lovely in moonlight are. 

When the beast is as beautiful as they, it is all too easy to forget that monsters cannot love like humans do.

After all, _only an Uchiha can love another Uchiha_.

It would be foolish to think otherwise. Incomprehensible, to even entertain the thought of being the exception that would melt an Uchiha’s cold, frozen heart. No one else can understand that love for them is painful sacrifice, bitter and hard, not a soft thing.

Sweetness is only savored in a ruinous touch, the destruction wrought from a black tongue, and power coursing through dying veins. Love is blood poured and drank from tin goblets. It is cutting one’s hand off at the altar and presenting it with pride. It is slit necks spraying warm iron into hungry, open mouths. Most importantly, it is hate and how nonexistent the line between the two can be. 

Ayumi knows this all too well. Her love for Shisui-nii began dipping, twisting, into hate after his death.

One day, she will kill for her village as Shisui-nii did. One day, she will die for her village as Shisui-nii did.

He used to say, “The village always comes first." And when they found his water-logged body, as she cried for the first time in years, she thought, how easy it is to simply die for your village rather than live for your sister.

Love is sacrifice, but when he sacrificed himself-

suicide, they said. she had denied it. no, not nii-san. he wouldn't... he wouldn't. **uchihas burn, not drown.** they handed her a note. it was his writing. she incinerates the lie. ~~itachi~~ , cousin is there. his cold hand on her shoulder. an offer. black clothing and cramped corridors. nii-san's funeral. his eyes were _missing_. then, fire. she screams, teeth clamping down, in the tic of her jaw. there is no pride left. how _could_ he? 

-his love wasn’t for her. 

The village comes first.

Understandable, in that it is almost unforgivable. Shinobi fight for the village and its people. He ~~is~~ \- was a shinobi, but he ~~is~~ \- _was_ an Uchiha too, a brother, her brother. The village comes first but what of duty, family, _the Clan_. (What of her?) 

The village comes first, but is second to the Clan.

_He betrays the Clan._

The Clan comes first, but is second to her. 

_He betrays her._

Love is loyalty. To be a shinobi means the village comes first. To be an Uchiha means the clan comes first.

To be both means you leave a trail of wreckage in your wake.

What will she sacrifice for the village when she becomes a shinobi? What more can she when her clan, Shisuii-nii, is gone? 

There is only Ayumi left. Ayumi and Sasuke ~~and Itachi~~. 

In the end, it’s really no question at all, between village and clan, clan and village.

Ayumi turns away from the mirror and pulls Sasuke to his feet.

* * *

There are no bloodstains here, though she cannot help but look for them.

Hands linked with Sasuke, they stand side-by-side, their combined shadow stretching large and far on the smooth rock beneath their sandal-clad feet in front of their destination. The Naka Shrine, located in an open expanse of forest, houses their dead, but is now the most untouched thing bearing association with the Uchiha. Blood is not allowed to be spilled past the threshold. Creatures do not stir in this place, not even the trees dare to speak. 

As the last of the Uchiha, it is their right and duty to deal with the remains of their brethren. Ayumi brushes her fingers down the slab that held Shisui-nii’s name. Sasuke raises his free hand and joins hers along the wall. Those lost in the Massacre have yet to be put to rest. 

Her request, demand, statement is spoken aloud lowly, tongue parched from disuse.

There is no reply from the ANBU, but the bodies appear suddenly, stacked upon each other, outside of the shrine. Sasuke's hand spasms and her stomach clenches at the sheer number. Flies swarm and buzz above decomposing flesh. A large box is placed neatly on the stone steps.

Together, they walk forward and kneel before it. 

Inside the chest is grey ash labeled and separated by slots.

"What is this?" she exhaled.

Silence.

She closes the lid carefully, fingers not betraying any of her growing fury as her eyes start to flare.

_They would dare?_

Then, a pitched voice answers.

"Some of the bodies were beyond recognition, we took care of them."

She whirls around, careful temper fraying and ready to unleash the fire tickling up her sore throat, when Sasuke squeezes her hand once. Ayumi takes a slow breath in and straightens her spine sharp enough to cut. A polite, barely-there smile is delicately pasted over her lips. 

"Leave us," she said quietly, with a coldness that was already becoming familiar. 

"This is Uchiha tradition," Sasuke finished in an unwavering whisper.

_And you are outsiders_ , is left unspoken, but heard nonetheless.

They wait until the vigilant eyes waver and distance themselves, before turning to the pile of waiting family members. Each will have to be cleaned of dried blood before entering the shrine.

* * *

Even though the limbs are near-frozen in death, the smell that emits from them is nauseating and almost warm in the air. 

Ayumi gently shifts her grip on an aunt's stiff ankles and continues walking backward into the dim-lit darkness. Activating her Sharingan with a blink, she can see the sheen on skin moistened from wet cloths and the curve of high cheekbones clearly. They carry the woman into the designated room within the shrine and commence the rites.

Candles and incense are lit silently. No prayers or words are uttered for the deceased. A moment is allowed, then hands contort and fingers bend into the signs for the Uchiha fireball jutsu. The room flashes with a burst of orange light. It's like looking directly into the sun and because Icarus* (too high and the sun will strike you down, too low and the ocean will devour you whole) could have been an Uchiha: reaching higher and higher and grasping farther and farther, they don't look away.

**_Uchihas burn_ ** _in a blaze of glory, they do_ **_not drown_ ** _the hushed hiccup of a_ coward's _death_.

The flames catch on the body quickly, taking starving bites, but consumption and digestion don't occur easily. Skin sizzled and shriveled off in agonizing, charred pieces, peeling back to expose bone that popped and cracked. Hair singed and disintegrated into powder. Smoke billows up and the incense cannot cover the thick odor produced.

When the fire has settled and nothing remains but ash and seared bone, they collect it into a marked container and return outside to bring the next body in.

This process is both about penance and honoring the dead. She forces herself to stare and memorize each Uchiha. Looking up, her heart beats out _itachi,itachi,itachi_ when she meets Sasuke's gaze over a stranger's- the tenth one, name unknown, but clan means blood -body and sees matching red hellfire.

His expression tightens because he knows what she thought and she knows that he knows and they both know and neither will say a word. Waking as the sole survivors of the attack, becoming overnight, the last of a lineage, has bound the two of them together in a way that means to be either, the other comes first.

He attempts to turn his face away, but she stops him with a displeased noise and focuses on the shape of his eyes. Satisfied, she nods and continues moving. He doesn't try to hide again. 

* * *

The wax sticks smolder to stubs and are replaced as the sun and moon alternate shifts. Bitter food pills are popped, crunched dully between molars, and swallowed before the warning tingles of faintness can overtake them. She becomes familiar with waking up on the floor after losing consciousness when the fatigue of three days and nights without sleep hits all at once.

They maintain this pace until Sasuke abruptly collapses. He lays there, horribly still on the floor and she thinks he has been forced into sleep, but then he vomits a mixture of stomach fluids. The sound of his coughs are awful, a purge caused from chakra strain, exhaustion, and human distaste. She blinks slowly, swaying on her feet and wonders if all human fluids are banned in the shrine or just blood. 

“Sas-kun,” she said, breaking the stifling lull with the nickname she would call him back when they both smiled. Shisui-nii had used it too, but Sasuke hated when he did. Her pinky finger skims the inside of his wrist as he wipes his mouth.

_We are alive. We will live._

He shivers, grasps her hand, and pushes himself into standing.

They burn the rest in a different room. 

At some point, ( _pick, carry_ ) when she loses ( _memorize, chakra_ ) track of the body ( _handsigns, fire_ ) number they are on, ( _burn, kneel_ ) becomes second nature ( _collect, repeat_ ).

_Pick_ person, _carry_ corpse, _memorize_ mask, create _chakra_ , hold _handsigns_ , fuel _fire_ , **burn** , _kneel_ to the killed, _collect_ collateral, and reap _repeat_. 

_(pick,carry,memorize,chakra,handsigns,fire,burn,kneel,collect,repeat)_

Again.

_(pick,carry,memorize,chakra,handsigns,fire,burn,kneel,collect,repeat)_

Again.

Again.

**Again.**

_(pick,carry,memorize,chakra,handsigns,fire,burn,kneel,collect,repeat)_

Over and over and over, until she reaches for a body ( _pick_ -) and nothing is there.

She stares at the matted, empty grass in blank confusion. They have to pick. Why is there nothing to pick?

Their task, they have to complete the task. Duty. Honor. _Lovelovelovelovelove_. They have to- What do they have to do? _The village always comes first._ Pick? Yes! _The Clan above all._

But there’s nothing left. 

Only Ayumi and Sasuke.

* * *

They gather all the loose ashes and deposit them in the chest until it is filled to the brim before travelling deeper into the forest. She looks around dazedly when they stop and begin to scatter the remains, unbidden words coming forth as the only speaking part required of the traditional rites is recited.

“We commit this body to the earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and in doing so offer the soul entrance to the Pure Land.”**

A gust of wind blows through the forest, shaking the trees and branches, whipping up the ashes and dispersing them throughout the land. The noise soon drops and everything reverts back to unnatural stillness. 

Upon returning to the shrine, Ayumi calmly walks to the room Sasuke had been sick in days ago to fall to her knees and dry heave. She coughs wetly, gagging as saliva pools in her mouth and over her tongue. Pressing her forehead into the cold stone, she swallows harshly. Sasuke’s hand is warm and _alive_ on her back. 

“We are alive,” he mumbled.

“We are alive,” she repeats and gets up.

They scrub the walls and floor until they are pristine again. Neither Sasuke or herself are skilled enough to do the name carvings, so after placing the bones within the crypt, they use ink, brushes, and sweeping strokes along the freshly-cleaned walls instead. It takes the rest of the night, but when they finally finish, a sob grows, one that she strangles before it can be born, in her chest. She is ten years old and the scent of death clings to her heavy enough to last the span of full lifetimes.

Standing before the sprawling list of _hundreds_ of black names, Ayumi closes her dry eyes and does not cry as a new dawn rises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :,( 
> 
> *Greek mythology suits the Uchiha.  
> **Biblical reference adapted to fit shinobi beliefs. The Pure Land is the Naruto world afterlife and could be considered a heaven of sorts.
> 
> Favorite lines in order of appearance:  
> 1) "Their skin is egg-shell, brittle and delightful to crush and crack between your fingers as it crumbles to bits and falls away to reveal the rotten, runny yolk of scrambled innocence."  
> 2) "... it is all too easy to forget that monsters cannot love like humans do."  
> 3) "Uchihas burn in a blaze of glory, they do not drown the hushed hiccup of a coward's death."
> 
> -/-/-
> 
> What do you think of the death rites and their reactions? What about Ayumi's logic on love and those darker, more negative feelings for her brother?

**Author's Note:**

> Please be respectful and don't post or translate my work as your own. Go to my profile for more details and information on ✨writing updates✨
> 
> xxx  
> [Visual for Fanning the Flames](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26628229/chapters/64930804)


End file.
